


One Night Stand

by ariapassionflower01



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Breaking Up & Making Up, Cheating, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 21:53:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1201948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariapassionflower01/pseuds/ariapassionflower01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emily crumbles to temptation for one night. Will Hotch forgive her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

They were a pack.  
We are only two people. Emily Prentiss squeezed her gun tightly, her palms sweating against the grip of the weapon. They hadn't used any of their ammo yet, but she was sure that a firefight was about to start. She could feel the animosity growing from the group of people outside. They wanted to kill them. That was for sure. They had murdered almost twenty people. Why would they hesitate to kill them? Why would they have any qualms about ridding their presence of two FBI agents.  
“They're moving in.” Her partner's low voice spoke from across the room.  
They were trapped in a house with a dead man. He lay in the other room, horribly mutilated. The smell of his rotting flesh had nauseated her before, but after being in this place for an hour, it had dulled to a slight irritation.  
Trapped. That's what they were. And they had no way out, except shooting through the pack of over fifteen people, holding AK-47s, standing outside. No. There was no way out. They were trapped.  
They'd come here searching the dead man, only to find that he was part of their group of serial killers. They had killed him, expecting that FBI were coming. They were only covering their tracks. This only showed how merciless they were. They wouldn't even protect one of their own.  
This group was extreme supremacists. Over twenty black, Asian, and Hispanic people had died in the past two weeks. When they had first been called to the case, they had suspected more than one unsub, but fifteen? This had to be the worst pack that Prentiss had ever seen. They stayed together, killed out of hate, and basically protected only themselves. Twenty people in two weeks. It was a massacre.  
“What do we do?” Prentiss looked out the window to see them marching towards the house.  
“They should know by now.” He said. By 'they', he meant the team. “They must've figured it out by now.”  
Prentiss nodded. “And if they don't get here in time?”  
“Then we'll have to do whatever it takes.” His dark eyes found hers. “I'm sorry about this, Emily.”  
“We couldn't've known.” Prentiss said.  
“If we go down...” He said. “You mean a lot to me as a team member. You mean a lot to me personally. I wouldn't have any one else covering my back.”  
Prentiss nodded, feeling her chest tighten. “I would say the same.” She said, barely able to speak.  
And then Derek Morgan crossed the room and pressed his lips against hers before he turned to the door, and prepared to fight. 

BAU ^ BAU ^ BAU

Aaron Hotchner's foot was on the accelerator, pressing it nearly to the floor. David Rossi sat next to him, his brown eyes staring straight ahead at the road. His hand hovered near his holstered gun, ready to pull it out any moment. In the backseat, was Spencer Reid and Jennifer Jareau. The two younger agents, both with their big eyes wide, sat rigidly.  
How could they have missed it? Hotch wondered. How could they not have seen. Bill Daniels had been on the inside the whole time and they had missed it. Now Morgan and Prentiss were probably trapped, their lives on the line.  
Hotch felt an urgency to find them. It went beyond their being team members. It went beyond their being friends. It was Emily. He would never forgive himself for letting the woman he loved be killed.... like the last time.  
“How much longer?” Hotch asked.  
“At this rate,” Reid said, “Five minutes. If the car was driving at the normal speed limit, 65, it would take approxima-”  
“Reid.” Hotch said, stopping the young genuis in the middle of his estimate.  
“Sorry.” He and JJ exchanged glances. She reached over and squeezed his hand, reassuringly. He squeezed back, then looked back at the road.  
Hotch kept the pedal down, his lights and sirens whirring. He whipped through the traffic, not slowing down even for a lane change. Rossi held onto the door handle, not appearing to be fazed by Hotch's insane driving.  
A trail of local PD cars followed after them, and they seemed to have only a little problem with keeping up with Hotch. They wanted to catch this group just as much as they did. Nearly twenty people had been killed in their town. The officers probably knew some of them. Maybe they were related. Either way, the small Arizona town had known more grief in the past two weeks than if a hundred years.  
Hotch made a sharp turn around a corner, nearly lifting two wheels off the road. They came to the dirt road that led to the Bill Daniels's house. Red, thick dust swirled around the black SUVs, coating it with the clay.  
Suddenly, they heard shots ring out in the distance. Hotch pushed the SUV harder, until they could see a house and several figures on the horizon. And there was no sight of Prentiss and Morgan. 

BAU ^ BAU ^ BAU 

“Come out!” The leader of the group, a man by the name of Colin Willis, yelled from the outside, holding up his weapon.  
Morgan didn't answer him. He stayed crouched by the door, gun clutched in both hands. His shirt stuck to his muscular back with sweat. His feet were planted, his boots covered in a layer of Arizona dirt.  
Prentiss was on the other side of the door. She held her gun just as tightly as he did, her breaths coming quickly, even though she tried to smooth them out.  
She was slightly shaken by the kiss that he had given her only moments before. She hadn't expected it, and frankly, hadn't wanted it. She felt ashamed even though he had done it before she could protest. She tried not to think about what Hotch would do if he found out. She didn't want to think about whether Morgan had really meant it or not. But her being ashamed had more to do with what she had felt when he had kissed her. It made her fearful. She loved Hotch with all her heart, and she would never leave him or have a relationship of any kind with anyone else. That was what she had always told herself. But wasn't wanting to return his kiss, wanting some kind of relationship?  
No! I love Hotch. It was a one time thing. It will never happen again. It's just because we've been stuck here for over an hour. That forms a bond right? But not that kind of a bond.  
“We don't fight them until they start firing.” Morgan said, interrupting her thoughts. His dark eyes were penetrating, as he looked across the width of the door at her.  
She nodded, her mouth as dry as the damned dirt, her heart beating like a jackhammer. She been in situations before, but never had one seemed so helpless. And to be stuck with a man that was a friend and that had just kissed you. They were alone, stuck in this house with a dead man not more than ten feet away, ready to take on a fifteen man army, armed with AK-47s while they only had handguns.  
“It'll be okay, Emily.” He said, seeing the look on her face. “We'll make. Just keep believing that.”  
She nodded again, unable to do much else. The adrenaline was now racing, the feeling just before a shootout, filling her veins, her heart pumping it to every point in her body. The thoughts of the upcoming fight was beginning to overtake her thoughts of Morgan.  
“If you don't come out, we'll be forced to kill you.” Willis spoke again. After a moment, he spat, “You damned, fucking FBI agents. You think that you are invincible. Daniels was not, and he was a part of us. Come out and we'll do you a favor. We'll kill the woman quickly. For the nigger.... maybe not.”  
Prentiss's jaw clenched, but Morgan appeared to be cool and collected, unaffected by Willis's degradation.  
“Time's up, sons of bitches.” Willis called. And then the shots rang out. Glass from the windows shattered. Holes punched through the door. They could hear bullets ricocheting off the side of the house. They hunkered down, glass raining down on them.  
“Get down!” Morgan yelled over the firing of the guns. Prentiss slid all the way down to the floor, and she felt him come down on top of her, his body covering hers. He was protecting her.  
“They'll come in for us.” Morgan called over the gunshots again. “When there's a break, we run out the back.”  
“But it's desert!” Prentiss yelled back.  
“Desert or die!” Morgan replied.  
Prentiss didn't want to run into the desert. She wanted to be safe in Hotch's arms. But she didn't want to die, and running to the desert seemed the only option... if they team didn't come. But they had to. They always did. Just in time, when all seemed lost, Hotch would come, leading the way as the other members of the team flooded in to save the day.  
Suddenly Prentiss's ears were ringing. The shooting had stopped.  
Morgan jumped up from the floor, grabbing her arm and dragging her with him as he headed towards the back.  
“Wait!” Prentiss cried, balking against his hold on her arm. “That's Hotch's voice!”  
Morgan stopped, listening. And then he heard it too. The sound of their unit cheif's voice drifted on the wind through the shattered windows to their ears.  
“Stop! Put down your weapons! We have you surrounded! There's no way out now!”  
“We have our guns! There is a way out.” Willis called back.  
Morgan and Prentiss crept to the windows and looked out. A group of FBI SUVs and police cars ringed the pack.  
“If you shoot, we will kill you, and then you won't be able to plead your case. People will listen, but not through this violence. I'm sure that there are others who would join you, if you would speak rationally. Put you weapons down and you'll be able to spread your cause.”  
Willis spit on the ground. “I don't want you fuckin' FBI agents' help. My followers and I have a cause. And we will spread it. By killing every one of the Mexican bitches, the Chinks, and those damned niggers.”  
“That's your loss, Willis. You could have ten times the followers if you spoke rationally to the public.”  
“Shut the fuck up! I don't have time for this. I have a mission to accomplish.” Willis yelled.  
They all knew how this was going to end. They had the profile. These people were on the a mission. Mission-based killers didn't stop until they were stopped, and with Willis in the state he was, it was going to take those drastic of measures.  
“My followers will follow me to the death.” Willis said, looking around at those standing around him. And with that, he lifted his gun.  
Shots rang out. Both sides fired their weapons. The bodies of those following Willis were pummelled with the bullets from the FBI and the local PD. Willis was the first to fall, several bullets holes puncturing his body. The sound was deafening as one by one, the fifteen men and woman met their deaths in a hail of bullets. 

BAU ^ BAU ^ BAU

Hotch put his gun down, his eyes taking in the scene. Bodies scattered the dirt yard in front of the house, bloody holes filling them. He only felt a little remorse for having to put them down.  
The front door slammed open. Morgan and Prentiss walked out, their faces tired, their body posture showing signs of exhaustion. Hotch felt relief at the sight of them, unharmed.  
As soon as Emily's eyes met his, she began to run. Their bodies met, as she slammed into him at full run. He caught her in his arms, enveloping her. She hung onto him, silent, as he rocked her.  
Morgan walked up behind her, his dark eyes scanning the fallen members. “Are you all right?” Hotch asked over Prentiss's head.  
“Fine.” Morgan said, glaring at the dead body of Willis. He looked as if he wanted to spit on him. “Daniels is inside. He's dead. They killed him.”  
Hotch nodded. “Willis said so.”  
Morgan passed him, and met Rossi, Reid, and JJ. Hotch caught the look in Prentiss's eyes as she watched him walk away from them.  
“What's wrong, Emily?” He asked.  
“Nothing.” She switched her eyes back to him.  
“Emily.” He said in a tone. “I've never seen you look at him like that. He just had your back for the last hour.”  
“I didn't look at him like anything, Hotch.” She snapped.  
Hotch was only a little startled that she had spoken harshly to him. He recanted, deciding not to approach the issue at that moment. He nodded, and then he led her away from the house and the dead bodies.

BAU ^ BAU ^ BAU

Prentiss woke up the day after Arizona, lying next to Hotch. She had felt relief the night before, when he had taken her home without any questions. She knew that he was going to ask about Morgan again. But she wouldn't be able to answer him. She could not tell him that Morgan had kissed her.  
Prentiss closed her eyes, and pulled up memories of the night before, hoping to eradicate that feeling that was beginning to eat away at her stomach. Dread. That's what it was. Dread about talking to Hotch. Dread about seeing Morgan again. What would they say to each other. What could they say?  
“Honey.” Hotch's soft, low voice spoke beside her, pulling her out of her dismal thoughts.  
She forced a smile onto her face and turned on her side to look at him. “Hey.”  
“Did you sleep well?” He asked.  
“Extremely.” She pushed the flirtatious tone into her voice. She leaned in and pressed her lips against his. She felt relief when he responded. Why? Did she fear that he knew? But if it was solely Morgan's fault, why would he be mad at her? Because she had wanted to kiss Morgan and that was what scared her the most.  
She slid on top of Hotch, kissing him harder, trying to wipe her mind clear of every thought of her other co-worker. She was almost desperate for Hotch to take her again, to convince her of his love.  
Hotch flipped her on the bottom, pulling her up against him. His hard member brushed over her core, awakening her arousal, pulling her in.  
“You're eager this morning.” He murmured against her lips, his fingers finding her center.  
“I want you.” Prentiss replied, telling herself as much as she was telling Hotch. She moved against his hand, relieved that she felt herself becoming wet beneath his caresses – just like always.  
His tip touched her, sending desire shooting through her. She moved her hips upward as he pushed into her. He established a fast, hard pace, that brought an almost painful pleasure to their lovemaking. Prentiss welcomed the spike of pain that cut through her. She deserved it, after all, for even thinking of someone else.  
The orgasm came over her with a force, pushing her into that world of pleasure that she looked forward to so often. She welcomed it even more that day. They lay amidst the sheets, breathing hard, and regaining their strength. After a few moments, Hotch sat up and kissed her one last time before rising and going into the bathroom.  
Prentiss lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling once more. She closed her eyes and felt his lips touching hers, his rough stubble scraping her face, his large hands holding her by the arms, almost harshly. In her mind, the scenario continued, without her even telling it to. Her lips parted, his tongue entered, his hands moved- one to capture her breast, and the other to slide over her buttocks. She was against the wall, panting and pleading in want-  
Prentiss's eyes flew open. Her heart was pounding, and to her horror, her core was swelling. She sat up in the bed, feeling tears rushing into her eyes. She didn't want this. Why was she feeling this way? She felt like a dirty whore, having sex with one man and then thinking of another.  
She dashed the tears away, slowing her breathing. She couldn't let Hotch know. She loved him too much for that. Right then, Prentiss decided what she would do. She would have a private conversation with Morgan to smooth this out, and then she would take a few days off of work, and go somewhere. Anywhere. 

BAU ^ BAU ^ BAU 

Prentiss worked hard at the BAU until night. She walked up to Hotch's office and told him that she would be leaving early and going to her own house. She explained that she was tired and wanted to get a good night's rest. It was all a lie, but thankfully, he believed her and she left his office. As she was walking down the stairs, she met Morgan.  
“Hey, Emily. Can we talk?”  
“Yeah. I wanted to talk to you too.” She said.  
“I'll follow you.” He replied and then headed to the double glass doors that lead out of the bullpen. Prentiss followed and they walked into the parking lot in silence. They each got into their separate cars and Morgan followed her to her apartment just outside of the Capitol.  
Once they were inside, Prentiss offered him something to drink.  
“That's okay.” Morgan said. He looked at the floor for a moment, running the toe of his boot over the hardwood floor. “Look, Emily...” He began, and then paused. He looked up, his dark brows drawn together, his eyes holding concern. “I don't want to make excuses. I don't want to act like it didn't happen. I just want to make sure we're all clear.”  
Prentiss nodded. “Me too.”  
“I meant what I said. You do mean a lot to me. I can't say that I'm sorry that I...” He cleared his throat, his eyes jumping to the floor and then back to her. “....I kissed you. But.... I'm sorry, because I know about you and Hotch. It was wrong of me to do that.”  
Prentiss nodded again. “I...” Her voice faltered. “I don't want this to come between us. I don't want it to come between you and Hotch. I didn't tell him. He doesn't know. I think that's best.”  
Morgan agreed, stuffing his hands in his pockets and rocking from toe to heel for a moment. “Can we... be completely honest with each other?”  
“Yeah.”  
“I was honest with you. I said that I wasn't sorry.” He looked up at her, his eyes expectant. He wanted to know if she regretted it.  
Prentiss stepped closer to him, so that they were only inches apart. She couldn't force herself to say it above a whisper. “I...” She felt the emotion squeeze her chest again. But someone had to hear her confession, if not Hotch, then Morgan. “I didn't.... regret it.” She forced out. Her eyes met his, and she could see emotion- a very different emotion- swirling in their dark depths.  
She couldn't step back or step forward to do anything even as he leaned in. His lips caught her in a much more passionate kiss than the one in Daniels's house. His hand cupped the back of her head, his mouth ravaging hers in a stunning kiss. She couldn't move for a moment, but she felt herself giving in.  
No! I can't! I can't do this. But she felt herself melting against him, his lips working her to compliance. He slammed her up against the wall of the apartment, his hands taking her breasts. She gasped as his large hands covered the heaving mounds, squeezing and fondling. Her core began to burn, her breaths coming harder and faster. She wanted to resist, but she couldn't. Oh, she couldn't.  
Morgan right hand moved down her stomach, and yanked at the belt buckle. She grabbed his arm, but she couldn't muster the strength to give even a single pull. The corded muscle clenched beneath her fingers, giving her only a taste of the power within him. Her zipper came down with a hiss, and his fingers ducked beneath her panties. His hand cupped her mound, bringing hot wetness flooding to her core. She felt her legs spreading against her own will as his fingers parted her. One finger slid into her, making her constrict and pulsate. She gripped his arm harder, this time out of passion and want. His left hand slid down to pull her pants and panties off over her hips. They crumpled around her ankles, leaving her naked from the waist down. Cool air rushed in over her dampened thighs.  
Morgan's hand slid up between her legs again with practiced movements, his fingers darting inside her. The two moved in her wetness, while she could only lean heavily against the wall, her legs weakening, her mind's defenses falling. They crashed down around her, leaving her open and vulnerable. The walls that she had so carefully built were torn down in an instant by the strong, sensual air was the was radiating from Morgan.  
I can't control it! She thought wildly, but in her heart, she knew that she could. She could force him away from her with one word, just as much as she could bring him to her. She could stop him, and walk away at this very moment, and not completely consumate what they had started. She could live with the thought that she had almost given in and cheated on the man she loved the most, but hadn't. She could also let him continue and and live with the guilt.  
Morgan's third finger entered, his hand pumping against her, sending a slight wave of tingles washing over her body. The first beginnings of an orgasm. She held to Morgan tighter, kicking her pants away and parting her legs wider. The last finger entered her, slamming up into her with a force. She wished for the climax to come quickly so that she could make Morgan leave. Then she would run to the shower and she could wash herself all over. She could climb into her bed, and cry, and-  
Another wave of tingles slid over her, stronger than before. Morgan's hand slammed into her, harder than before, nearly lifting her from the floor. It hurt, but she didn't cry out for him to stop. Didn't she deserve it?  
She let out a cry as the pleasure tore through her, fast and furious. It ripped inside of her to shreds, almost with a vengeance, as if telling her of her sin.  
And then, before it was hardly over, Morgan was lifting her, his arms strong and capable.  
“Not....the bedroom...” She whispered against his shoulder, tears rising in her eyes. She pushed them back as he laid her out on her couch. He pulled his shirt off over his head. His chiseled chest and abdomen were blurry, and she blinked the tears out of her eyes. She managed to wipe them away without Morgan noticing. He pulled his belt open and dropped his pants to the floor along with his shorts. She drew in a breath at the sight of his cock, hard and throbbing. A familiar but so different want filled her, swelling inside her. It spread throughout her like a poison, working into her system, slowly taking over her.  
He had produced the protection from his wallet, and he slid it over himself, his eyes still not meeting hers. He hadn't looked at her since before he had kissed her. Was that a sign of shame? Or had she been the one not looking at him?  
Prentiss moved on the couch until she was on her stomach, as he finished with the condom. She didn't want to look at him as he came into her. Her face pressed into the cushions and she stared at the print of the sofa. She felt his hand between her legs again, rubbing over her gently. She whimpered, lifting her hips as he parted her. She felt his tip touch her. Then he slid into her all the way. He began to move in her, slowly at first.  
Harder! Harder! The thoughts spun crazily in her head, but as if he had read her mind, Morgan's pace picked up. He came into her harder and harder until the sweet pain that she had been searching for accompanied his thrusts. Her fingers dug into the cushions of the couch, her eyes shut tightly. Tears squeezed out from under them, a pained cry issuing from her. Morgan didn't slow- she didn't want him to. After several hard thrusts, she came, an explosion inside her rocketing from their connected bodies to the top of her head. Morgan was a moment after, his growls and grunts mingling with her cries.  
And then they were still.  
All was silent.  
Morgan collapsed behind her, his head resting on her lower back. She felt him relax to sleep. And she remembered something a very wise colleague long ago had said.  
Only a guilty man can lay his head down and sleep.  
She tried to fight it even as her eyes closed. She couldn't fight it. What was done was done and she was guilty. For that she slept.

BAU ^ BAU ^ BAU 

Prentiss awoke the next morning to find herself still on the couch. A pillow had been slipped beneath her head and a blanket had been tucked around her. She remembered everything in an instant, before she even opened her eyes.  
She looked around. Morgan was gone. She didn't remember him leaving. He must've gone while she slept.  
She sat up, tossing the blanket away. In utter despair of heart, she looked at her still naked body, remembering his every caress, his every touch. She covered her face in her hands, feeling the emotions come, the tears rushing into her eyes. She pushed them back, rubbing her fingers over her eyes. She tried to wipe away the tears, every evidence of what had happened.  
She lifted her head to see a piece of paper sitting on her coffee table. A shaking hand reached out to lift it to her. It was written in Morgan's hand. The strokes were hard and thick, showing frustration, maybe even anger. 

Emily, 

I left because I have nothing to say. I'm sorry that I wasn't there when you awoke, like a good man. But I do not feel like a good man today.  
I won't be angry if you tell Hotch that I pushed you into this. I won't be angry with you if he is never my friend again or if he would never trust me again.. What would anger me the most is that you would be forgiving, and I that I would never be punished for my actions.  
I came to say that I was sorry, and I ended up doing what I would have been disgusted with the most. What I still am disgusted with. Please do not think of yourself as a some sort of slut or whore. I place the blame on my shoulders and I would appreciate if you left it there.

Derek 

Prentiss tossed the note aside, laid back down on the couch and cried. After that, she got up and took an hour long shower. She was already late for work, but she didn't care. She called Hotch and told him that she wouldn't be coming in for a while, probably. She told him that she loved him, and that she when she came back, she wanted to see him and talk to him. Then she packed a suitcase, and called the airport. She paid a large amount of money for an immediate flight out of the country and to France. She knew that the team could track her through Garcia, but she wasn't worried. She was sure that Morgan would protect her. He wouldn't allow them find her. She drove to the airport and didn't look back before boarding the plan to France. 

BAU ^ BAU ^ BAU 

When Prentiss arrived in France, it was still daytime, although it was probably late at night in Quantico. She took a cab out into the country to the base of the French Alps. She paid someone to take her up, and then sat in the back of the off-road vehicle, with a placid, calm expression on her face.  
When they reached her destination, she thanked the man and paid him generously.  
“Thankyou.” She said in French. “This means a lot.”  
“Madmoiselle.” He said with a nod, and then he drove away, leaving her standing in front of the cabin that she hadn't been to in years. It was extremely cold, and she shivered as she walked through the snow towards the front door. Billows of smoke emanated from the chimney, and there was a light on inside.  
She knocked on the door and waited, holding her suitcase handle tightly in her hand. When the door open, she almost cried again.  
“Mother.”  
“Emily?” Ambassador Prentiss stood on the other side of the door, her expression one of extreme surprise. “What are you doing here?” She ushered her inside. Now she was worried, seeing the look on her daughter's face.  
“I'm.... I'm in some deep shit.” Prentiss said quietly, pulling her suitcase inside, exhaustion- mental and physical- tearing at the edges of the whisper.  
“Why don't you sit down?” She said, pulling open the buttons on Prentiss's jacket, and then hanging it on a tree by the door. Prentiss let her take the coat, to tired to do anything else. She was barely able to kick her shoes off before she was led to the couch in front of the fire.  
She was so glad to be there in her grandfather's old cabin. He had retired here, and had spent much of the rest of his life on the mountain. She had come here every time they were here on one of her mother's assignment. She'd spent a lot time playing on the weaved rug in front of the fire while Grandfather read her stories in his deep rumbling voice that calmed her until she fell asleep on the floor.  
Now that he was dead, her mother had inherited the land, and came here sometimes. Prentiss knew that she was going to be here, and that was exactly why she had chosen to come here. There was no one else to go to. As much as she hated to admit, her mother was only one she could go to.  
Ambassador Prentiss sat down beside her, taking her hand. “What's going on , Emily?”  
“I... I don't know.” She felt the tears rushing back. She pressed her lips together. “I really screwed up.”  
“Come here.” Her mother's voice was gentle. This was one of the few times that she had heard that tone. She went into her arms, like she used to when she was a little girl. She buried her face in her shoulder, holding tightly to her arm. “I've never done anything so wrong in my life before.” She whispered, raggedly. “I don't know what to do.”  
“Why don't you tell me what you did.” That sounded more like Mother.  
“I...” Prentiss had known that this would mean telling her mother about her and Hotch. Which was strange, because Hotch used to work for her mother sometimes. The ambassador had even helped with a case one time before she and the unit chief had a relationship. “Agent Hotchner and I....” She began, still pressing her face into her shoulder. “We're together.”  
She didn't answer for a moment. “Okay.” She finally said, slowly.  
“We have been for about a year now.”She pushed the tears out of her voice. “Do you remember Derek Morgan?”  
“Is he the black man?”  
“Yes.”  
“I remember.”  
“We were stuck together in a house in Arizona. We had a supremacist group outside. About fifteen of them. They had major firepower. We were trapped, and I thought that we weren't gonna make it....” Prentiss took in a deep breath. “He... kissed me. I was going to set him straight when we got back. We talked.... at my apartment.”  
“You slept together.” Her mother's voice said from above.  
“I don't know why.” Prentiss's voice slid into a whine, as the tears returned. “I didn't want to, but I did. I couldn't even look at him when....” Her whisper disinegrated into nothingness, and she gripped her arm tighter, shutting her eyes. “I don't know what to do.”  
“Well, Emily, you can do one of two things. You can tell him, and see what kind of a man he is. Or you could keep it from him and live with it for the rest of your life.” One hand stroked her daughter's hair as she spoke, comforting.  
“I don't want to tell him.” Prentiss whispered. “I'm afraid he'll leave me.”  
“Is that the kind of man that you believe that he is?”  
Prentiss thought about that, quiet for a moment before answering. “No.”  
“Do you think your guilt will take you away from him?”  
“Yes... maybe...I don't know.”  
“You're going to have to make a decision.” Ambassador Prentiss said, pulling her away from her to look her in the eyes.  
Prentiss nodded, wiping the tears away. “I know. I came here to think about it. I told him that I wouldn't be back for a while.”  
“How long is a while?”  
“I don't know that either. All I knew was that I needed to get away.”

BAU ^ BAU ^ BAU 

1 week later

“I'm worried about her, that's all, Derek.” Penelope Garcia's voice said through the little speakers of Morgan's phone.  
“I know, but I don't think you need to track her down. She's a big girl. I'm sure she can handle herself, baby.” He said. He knew that he'd been lying to everyone for the past week, but what else was he to do? It wasn't his place to break the news to Hotch that his girlfriend had cheated on him. He didn't want to. He just wished that he had never gone to Prentiss's apartment. He wished that he had had more self-control. He wished that Prentiss had resisted, and made him feel guilty for trying to take advantage of her.  
“She isn't returning calls. She's not at her apartment. She's not even in Quanitco, I don't think.” Garcia said. “I'm worried.  
“Maybe she just needed to get away.” Morgan said, feeling even more guilty than before. If he had just stopped, she wouldn't have needed to get away from the BAU and those that cared about her.  
“What if she doesn't come back?” Garcia's voice was small.  
“This isn't like Gideon.” Morgan said, quietly but firmly.  
“How can you be so sure?”  
“I just am. I gotta go, baby girl.” He shut the phone, and stared at it, thinking about calling Emily. One, because she wasn't returning calls much less his. Two, because it wouldn't do any good. He wouldn't blame her if she never wanted to talk to him again. But he hoped she would. He valued her friendship just as much as everyone else's on the team.  
“Morgan.” JJ's voice cut through his thoughts. He looked up from his seat at his desk. “Are you okay?” Her blue eyes seemed to slice right through him, but he knew with a certainty that she had no idea what was going on.  
“I'm fine.” Morgan said.  
“Are you sure?” She said, sitting down on the edge of his desk. “If you wanna talk.... I'm right here.”  
“Nothing's wrong with me.” He said, glaring at the phone still in his hand.  
“Right.” She said, and stayed in her position on the desk.  
“Have you ever felt like you've betrayed two of the most important people in your life?” Morgan asked, not meeting her eyes. He was afraid that if he did, she would see the guilt that was layering him from the inside out.  
“Maybe one person. Two?”  
“Yeah.”  
JJ looked around. She knew that he was talking about someone else on the team. Somehow she knew. She was looking for them. Then she made the connection as her eyes landed on Emily's empty desk.  
“Emily?” She asked.  
“I can't talk about it.” He said, sitting back in his chair.  
“Who's the other person?” She pressed. The only people left on the team was Hotch, Rossi, and Reid. It was one of the three.  
“I said I can't talk about it.” Morgan said, more forcefully this time.  
“All right. Like I said, I'm here if you need me. You know my office door is always open.”  
“You won't tell anyone.”  
“Tell what?”  
Morgan looked up at JJ for the first time since she had started talking to him. “That it's my fault that Emily's gone.” 

BAU ^ BAU ^ BAU 

3 weeks later

Prentiss felt like it had three years instead of three weeks since she had walked through the doors of the BAU. But another part of her felt like it had only been three days. In what light was she looking through that made her feel either way? She didn't know.  
She squared her shoulders as the elevator doors opened. The busy hallways was filled with agents and secretaries running to and from their jobs, hardly noticing each other in the midst of the hurry of their mission. But some did notice her. Some turned their heads to watch the long absent FBI BAU agent step through the door.  
She was dressed like she always was. Her hair was longer than the last time she been here. It almost reached her elbows, falling in thick black waves over her back, and her bangs playing with her eyelashes. Her skin was more pale than usual from spending three weeks on a mountain in France in the midst of winter. The gun felt heavy at her waist. The credentials were burning a hole in her pocket.  
She reached the the glass, double door holding the seal of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. She wrapped her fingers around the handle and waited for only a second before pulling them open and walking inside.  
“Emily!” JJ's voice cut through the insistent, incessant noise of the office. Prentiss turned to see her blonde-headed friend rushing over to her. She caught her in a hug. Prentiss was at first taken off guard, but then remembered that these were her friends and not her enemies. She felt relief rush through her. She wrapped her arms around JJ, closing her eyes, pulling in the smell of her friend's shampoo. How could she have forgotten it? They spent so much time together.  
“God, I missed you.” She whispered.  
“Me too.” JJ pulled back. “How are you doing? We've all been worried.”  
“I just needed to sort some things out. I'm fine. I spent some time with my mother.” Prentiss nodded.  
“Hey, Emily.” Spencer Reid called, hurry over.  
“Reid.” Prentiss felt a smile grow on her face. They met in a hug. Once more, Prentiss closed her eyes, trying to memorize the smell of his cologne, the overjoyed way he embraced her.  
“You never answered our calls.” Reid said, releasing her.  
“Well, I was in the French Alps. There's no cell reception up there.”  
“I knew that.” Penelope Garcia's voice said, meekly, behind them.  
Prentiss turned to see the tech girl, standing a few feet away from them, a guilty look upon her face. “Derek told me not to, but..... I was worried.”  
“Garcia.” Prentiss rushed over and crushed her an embrace. “I love you.”  
“Uh....” Garcia patted Prentiss's back. “Thankyou. I love you too... you're not mad?”  
“No. God, no.” She stepped away, never so happy to see Garcia's quirky style, and bubbly outfits in her life. “Is Hotch in his office?” She asked, looking up, out of the bullpen.  
“Yes.” Garcia said, a smile quickly growing on her face. “Go, my vision!”  
Prentiss walked to the stairs to where the offices were- right past Morgan who sat in his chair with his back turned.  
“That's strange.” Reid noted.  
“What?” JJ asked.  
“She didn't talk to Morgan.” 

BAU ^ BAU ^ BAU

Prentiss stood outside Hotch's door, her heart pounding. She had calmed herself on the flight and the ride here, but now, standing her, she wasn't sure what to do. She hadn't seen him in three weeks. The last time she had seen him had been at this very office. And then she had left with Morgan. More than anything she wished that she could go back and change what she had done.  
She lifted her fist, and hesitated a second before knocking.  
“Come in.” His voice called.  
His voice. She felt relief rush into her. She hadn't heard his voice in three weeks. The full extent of the time spent away hit her in an instant. Three weeks. Twenty-one days without hearing the voice of the man she loved. What the hell was she even doing? What the hell was wrong with her? A sort of anger at herself rushed through her for the first time since giving into Morgan's seductive touch.  
“Come in.” Hotch called again.  
Prentiss pushed the door open, taking a deep breath. She stepped inside to see him leaned over his desk, writing. He was left-handed. She'd forgotten about how she loved that about him. He did everything left-handed. It was different and that's why she liked it so much.  
At first, he didn't look up. But after she didn't say anything for a moment, he looked up. His eyes widened as he saw. He was out of the chair in and instant. He came around the desk, pulling her against his chest. He crushed her against his chest, expelling the air from her lungs. “Emily.” He said her name and it sent the feeling of a thousand knives cutting through her. Tonight, he wouldn't be saying her name like that, because she was going to break his heart tonight. She didn't want to. She knew that she would almost back down. She knew that she would make herself pull through. It was the right thing to do. She couldn't live a lie. She refused to.  
“Emily, I've missed you. I worried about you. We all did.” He didn't let her go.  
“I needed to sort some things out.” Prentiss said, clinging to him while she still had the chance. She felt the emotion that had become so familiar in the past few weeks, come washing over her. She tried not to cry, but she knew that this would be the last hug she would receive from him for a while, and she could hardly bear the thought.  
“What's wrong?” Hotch asked, pulling her back so that he could look in her eyes.  
“I've... missed you.” She could barely get the admission out. He leaned down, his lips pressing against her. She closed her eyes, relishing the feel of his mouth caressing hers. She wished that he could take her, right here, but that wasn't right. He had to know what she had done before he decided if he ever wanted to have sex with her ever again.  
Hotch's tongue laved the inside of her mouth, his sweet taste filling her for the first time in three weeks. She clung to him, kissing him passionately, never wanting it to end. But it would end, and that was what tore her heart to pieces, and made her cry her heart out in the arms of the man she loved. It was what made her whisper in a voice too quiet to hear, “Please, please forgive me.” 

BAU ^ BAU ^ BAU

Prentiss arrived at Hotch's apartment in her own car. She had told him that she just wanted to talk to him tonight. He had offered to drive them, but she had told him that she probably wouldn't be staying the night. He'd looked confused but hadn't questioned her further.  
Prentiss had kept back the swelling emotion for the car ride, and she continued to hold it in check as Hotch let her in.  
“Emily!” Jack's little voice cried. He ran out of the kitchen, wrapping his arms around her legs, and beaming up at her.  
“Hey, little man.” She said, her voice husky. She knelt down so that she could hug him. She wrapped his little body in her arms and held him tight. “I missed you, buddy.” She whispered.  
“I missed you to, Emily.” He said, his arms not quite fitting all the way around her.  
“I love you, buddy.” She whispered once more, keeping her eyes closed so that she Hotch wouldn't see that she was crying.  
“I love you.” Jack returned.  
Prentiss swallowed hard. She knew that after this night it might be a while before she saw Jack again, or heard his precious voice. It might be a while.....  
She released him and stood, forcing herself to appear normal. “You should get to bed. It's late. And I bet you had a long day with Aunt Jessica.”  
“Okay.” He said. “Night, Daddy.” He hugged Hotch and ran off, up the stairs.  
“What's going on, Emily.” Hotch asked, drawing her against him. “You haven't been yourself since the night before you left.”  
“I have to tell you something.” She said, drawing away from him. “I think you should sit down.”  
“What's going on?” He asked, more concerned now than before.  
“Please.” She said, avoiding his burning amber eyes.  
Hotch, frowning, sat down on the sofa, and waited for her to speak. Prentiss sat down on the recliner across from him.  
“You're right. I haven't been myself since the night before I left. In fact, I haven't felt right since that case in Arizona.”  
“What did Morgan do?” Hotch immediately asked. He remembered the look that she had given as he had walked past after the supremacists had been shot down. Of course, he had been able to put that together. He was a profiler after all.  
“He.... kissed me.” Prentiss forced out.  
“What?” Hotch's voice was dark and low. She'd only heard it that way a few times, and it struck a fear in her heart. What would he do when she told him that they had slept together?  
She looked up to see Hotch's usual light amber eyes completely dark. She could see the anger boiling just beneath the surface. His posture was defensive. But his eyes. She couldn't look into them.  
“He did.” She said, her voice raspy and barely a whisper. “I talked to him about it.” She said. “We went to my apartment-”  
“Emily.” His tone was warning although he could no longer stop what had already happened.  
“We talked...” She whispered, staring at the floor. “We talked...” She couldn't get the words out. They wouldn't come. She just couldn't make the confession come out of her tight throat.  
“Emily, I don't like what you're implying.” His voice was even darker than before. She felt the tears rising, her stomach spiking with a combination of fear and regret. It mixed into a deadly poison, rushing to fill her every limb, every part of her.  
“I'm sorry, Aaron.” She whispered. “I can't explain what I did or why.”  
She could see Hotch rise off the couch in her peripheral vision. She still didn't look up.  
“I've felt the guilt of it every day since that night. I went to France for three weeks to try and get a hold of what I did, to try to decide what to do....” The sentence ended, shattered.  
She felt Hotch's hand grip her arm, pulling her off the sofa. His fingers were harsh, digging into her flesh. She looked up at him, tears spilling out of her eyes and onto her cheeks. His eyes were burning, the intense anger brewing. His nostrils flared, his brows pulled together.  
“Get out of my house.” His voice was so low and deep, she hardly recognized it. No, she didn't recognize him at all.  
“Aaron, please!” She cried. “I love you!”  
His fingers dug more deeply into her arm. The anger in his eyes wavered and flickered. “I think we need to take some time off.” He said, his control barely holding back the anger. And with that, he released her, his back turning to her. He was walking away. He was leaving.  
Prentiss turned and ran for the door. She pulled it open, her chest heaving with tears. She almost slipped as made it down the stairs of his front step. She caught herself on the railing, just short of landing on her ass. She ran to her car, shutting herself inside, as if to escape the monster that had chased her out of the house. But as she looked up at the rearview mirror, she knew the eyes looking back at her belonged to the very monster that was chasing her.


	2. Chapter 2

Morgan wasn't expecting anyone. He was surprised when he heard a knock on the door. It was loud and firm, demanding to be answered. He felt dread spike through him. Who was it? Why was he expecting to see his unit chief around every corner nowadays?  
Morgan looked through the peephole and considered not answering. This time Hotch really was around the corner. But not answering was weak and pathetic. He could handle looking his accuser in the face. He had before, and it probably wouldn't be the last time.  
He opened the door to find Hotch looking more angry than he had ever seen him. He knew.   
He walked in without any hello or explanation for why he was there. Morgan shut the door behind him and turned to look at Hotch. Hotch had never been to his aparment. He hadn't even known that he knew where it was.   
“Did you touch Emily?” These were the first words out of Hotch's mouth. His voice was deep, and unrecognizable. “Do not lie.”   
Morgan stood at the door, staring back at Hotch, unable to speak. He wanted to look away from the burning amber, but he couldn't let himself do that. He was a man, and he would face this like a man.   
“I did.” Morgan finally pushed out.   
Hotch crossed the room and before Morgan could get a handle on what was happening, he was already on his back, his jaw burning.   
“If you ever touch her again, you will never see another day at the BAU.”   
Morgan stared up at his unit chief, remembering the note that he had written to Emily. He had said that he wouldn't be mad if she told Hotch. He said that he wouldn't blame her if he didn't ever have their friendship ever again. But feeling his jaw crying out in pain, he couldn't help but feel an anger set in. He had never let someone hit him and get away with it in his life. He leapt from the floor. He knew that he was a better fist-fighter than Hotch. He'd grown up on the wrong side of the tracks in Chicago. Hotch had grown up going to boarding schools paid for by a rich father who was a lawyer.   
Morgan's fist met Hotch's jaw without him even expecting it or seeing it coming. He stumbled back in the TV stand, his hair coming out of its slicked posistion. The stand rocked, almost falling back into the wall. Hotch pushed himself up, his eyes blazing.  
“Stop, Morgan.” He commanded. “Don't make me do it.”   
“What? Kick me out of the BAU? That's not what Emily would want and you know it.”  
“Do not tell me what Emily is thinking. You have no right to her.”   
“Right? That's bullshit.”  
“Emily loved me long before she slept with you. There's a big difference.”  
Morgan couldn't deny that, but neither could he not respond. “Look, man, I know that Emily loves you. I know how bad she feels about what happened-”  
“What happened?! You took her and you violated her.”   
“She came to me!” Morgan wanted to take the words back as soon as he said them. Firstly, because it wasn't true. Secondly, because he saw the man who had led the team through everything without blinking, break in front of him.   
“My promise stands.” His voice was ragged. He passed Morgan and left the apartment, shutting the door behind him.  
Instead of feeling victorious, he only felt defeated. 

BAU ^ BAU ^ BAU 

3 days later

Prentiss wanted to quit. She really did. But she knew that she couldn't. She couldn't let this tear her away from her job. So she went on. She took two more days off after the night at Hotch's house. She couldn't bear to face him right after their break-up. Prentiss could barely stand to think of it like that, but wasn't that what 'take some time off', meant? Would he ever come back to her? How could she live without him? She had come to depend on him like a user with his drugs.   
Prentiss walked back into the BAU on the third day. Everyone greeted her once more, happy that she was back. Everyone that was, except Morgan. He didn't speak to her. He seemed in a worse mood than the last time she had seen him.   
JJ brought out a case, slapping files down on their desks and requesting their presence at the round table. Prentiss felt relief. Maybe taking more time off hadn't been the answer. Maybe getting back to work was what she really needed.   
After the briefing, they went to plane and briefed as they lifted off. Things were tense. Everyone could feel the tension coming from Morgan, Hotch, and Prentiss. Hotch stiffly delegated each of them the jobs they were to do once they got there. Everyone dispersed to seperate places on the plane for the duration of the flight.   
Prentiss escaped to the back of the plane where the coffee was. She pulled the curtain shut and leaned on the counter.   
“Emily.” She heard a voice behind her. She jerked, turning around to see JJ. She shut the curtain and turned to her, her eyes worried and compassionate.   
“What's wrong?” she asked.   
“I...” Prentiss turned her eyes away, staring at the bland color of the plane wall.   
“Morgan and Hotch have been acting differently lately.” She said. “Two days ago, they both came in with bruises. On their faces, Emily. I think I know what happened. When you were in France, Morgan told me that it was his fault that you were gone. I can put two and two together to equal four.” Her voice softened as she placed a hand on Prentiss's shoulder.   
“I betrayed him, JJ.” Prentiss whispered. “He told me...” Her voice faded. “He told me to get out. I love him. I don't want to lose him.”   
“Hotch won't know what he's lost until its gone.” JJ said.  
“You don't...” She faced her friend. “You don't... condemn me.... for what I did?”   
“I am no judge, Emily. I can't say whether I would've done the same thing.”  
“I don't want this to break us up. We're like family. This is all my fault.”   
“No it's not. It takes two. Morgan has as just as much blame on his shoulders as you do.”   
“If I could go back in time, I would change everything. I would've never let him kiss me. I would've never let him into my apartment.”  
“That's the thing about hindsight.” JJ replied. “I think you should give Hotch some time. He loves you, Emily. We can all see that. It's as plain as day.”  
“You think he'll come back to me?”  
“I think that you should give him a chance to.”   
Prentiss nodded, then looked into JJ's eyes sincerely, “Did I mention that it's good to be back?” 

BAU ^ BAU ^ BAU

1 week later

It had been more than a month since that fateful night in Prentiss's apartment. A month since she had felt Hotch's warm kiss, the feel of his love, the assurance of it. She felt like she was dying inside. Every day, every hour, every minute, every second. With every tick of the clock, Prentiss felt that her heart was crumbling into small pieces. It was being ground into pure dust that would be swept and blown away by the winds of deceit.   
She had taken JJ's advice. She had waited for Hotch. But a week seemed like another month. No, more than that. It felt like it had been years since he had looked at her with a caring eye. For the past week, he had hardly spoken to her. He had hardly looked at her. But could she blame him? She had cheated on him. Didn't she deserve this cold treatment? Wasn't it everything that she should get for acting as she had?  
She hadn't talked to Morgan since that night either. Only if they had to, in the field, and they were never alone in a room. It was as if they couldn't stand each other's presense. As if it were some kind of leprosy, a disease to be avoided.   
Prentiss didn't know how much more she could take. How much longer could she work with them without going crazy?   
Finally, Prenitiss talked to JJ, and told her that she wanted her to come over to her apartment. She needed someone to talk to. She needed to somehow make sense of what she had done.   
JJ arrived at her apartment after work and they sat down together on the couch. Prentiss had poured glasses of wine for them both, and they sat, silently, staring at the red liquid.   
“Does everyone know?” Prentiss finally asked.   
“They have their suspicions.” JJ said.   
“They know.” Prentiss said, taking a large gulp of the wine.   
“Not for sure.”  
They were silent for another moment, before JJ said, “Why did you really ask me here?”   
“I... I don't think I can do this.”   
“This?”  
“Work here any longer. I can't stand it anymore. I can't do my job right. I can't think straight. I can't even talk to anyone without feeling....” She stopped, midsentence, staring once more at her glass.   
“You want to quit?” JJ asked.   
“At least get a transfer.”   
“I don't think you should do that.”   
“Why not? How does everyone think of me, JJ? Tell me.”   
JJ looked down at her lap, spinning the stem of her wineglass between her fingertips. “You're our friend, Emily. We stand beside you. And I think it would be a mistake to ask for a transfer. Hotch loves you.”  
Prentiss scoffed. “After what I did? How could he?”   
“He's a good man. He's been hurt. He needs to recover. And you... you don't understand much about male affection, do you?”   
“What do you mean?”   
“Your father. He was hardly there for you, was he? And when he was, he was just as strict and domineering as your mother. You felt suffocated by the authority, and you rebelled against it. By going outside of your mother's rules, and by completely cutting off you father. When you were fifteen, you got pregnant by a boy who probably didn't really love you, and just wanted sex. He wasn't there for you either, and the boy that was there, became rebellious against the church as a result. He was later killed, and you feel responsible. You went on dates, but only because you felt that, that was only normal. You've felt love before, but probably only recognized it after it was too late. You find Hotch, who is the epitome of a wonderful loving man. But then there's Morgan. His feelings for you might not be true love, but they're enough to make him want you. You give in because that's what you always did with your dates before. It was only normal, and you were always safe, so it was okay. You forgot for one second about the true love you had found, and it cost you. Look at Hotch. His father drank too much, and cared more about money than family. He was basically raised by his mother. In highschool, he found Hailey, and they were together until she left. He was broken. He still loved her, and when she was killed, he was almost too devestated to go on. But then he found you. He knows how to treat a woman, because he saw the exact opposite from his father. He stayed with Hailey until she was gone, and I believe that he'll stay with you too, and if you leave, I don't think he'll be able to recover this time. He loves you, Emily. I can see it in his eyes. When you're not watching, he looks at you, and you can just see it. He wants you back, and if you go...” JJ sentence trailed off. “You don't understand it, Emily. Men- good men- do not leave the one they love even after it's too late. They'll go back every time, and try to get you back. Even if they can't have it. It is not in a good man to leave behind what he holds most precious.”   
Emily sat on the couch, staring at JJ, tears glistening in her eyes. She couldn't speak a word. She leaned forward, and JJ wrapped her arms around her. They sat in the embrace for a long time, leaving the wine to warm on the coffee table. 

BAU ^ BAU ^ BAU   
2 days later

Hotch didn't know what to do. Some days when he looked at Emily, he felt hurt. Other days, he just felt a need to forgive her and take her back. It was an intense need. More intense than the hurt. Was it wrong to want to still love the woman that had cheated on you? Was it wrong to want her back?   
Hotch was sitting in his office, busy, when there was a knock on the door. “Come in.” He called, not lifting his eyes.   
A file slapped down on his desk, and felt the smell of her wash towards him. He swallowed staring at the words he had just written. He didn't want to look up, but he did. He hoped she would just turn around and walk out. But she didn't. She just stood there. Finally he looked up. He noticed that she had shut the door behind herself. He forced himself to look at her without flinching. Her eyes were dark and wide, her full lips turned down. She was pale and weary looking. She looked sad.   
“I want to talk to you, sir.” The formality cut through him like a blade. When was the last time she had addressed him in that manner? Years ago. When she had first joined the team. Before everything. Even before Hailey had left him.   
“Sit down then.” He motioned towards the chairs.  
“I'd prefer to stand.” Her eyebrow quirked.   
“Fine.” Hotch said, and then nodded as a que for her to go on.   
“I'd like your opinion.”  
“On what?”  
“Whether I should request a transfer or not.” She didn't hesitate. She looked in straight in the eyes as she spoke.   
At her words, he felt a fear spike through him. It wasn't a fear that he was ashamed of though. It was fear of losing his love again. Of watching for the second time in his life as the most precious thing to him wilted before his eyes.   
“A transfer.” He finally choked out.   
“Yes sir.” She remained stoic, her eyes hardening.   
“Why?”   
“Why?!” Her facade dropped in an instant. Anger flashed across her beautiful features. “Goddamnit, Hotch! I've admitted what I've done. The least you could do is not try to act like it didn't happen.”   
He stared at her. Finally, he said, “I'm sorry, Emily.”   
She nodded, her eyes filling up. But she blinked the moisture away. Her jaw hardened as she squared her shoulders. “Your opinion?”   
“I can't tell you that, Emily.”  
“Why not?”   
“You're the only one who can make the decision. I can't make you leave, or make you stay.”  
“But you can tell me whether I'm effective at my post or not.”   
Hotch just looked at her, once more. He didn't know what to say. Inside, his heart was tearing apart. He didn't want her to leave. She couldn't be gone. This couldn't happen to him yet again. He hadn't had the power to stop Hailey from dying, but he had the power to put this back together and save their relationship.   
“No, Emily.” He said quietly. “Don't. Don't ask for a transfer.” He felt like he was begging, but he had forced his voice to sound normal. Or had he?

BAU ^ BAU ^ BAU 

“No. Emily.”   
Prentiss felt the tears rise once more. Hope filled her. She had seen it in his eyes when she had first posed the question. She had seen pure terror in his eyes, when she suggested the transfer. But now, as he had gathered his wits about him, he said it. No, Emily. And he had said her name, like before. He said it the way that put chills down her spine and goosebumps on her arms. He said the way he said it when he wanted her. He said it how he said it when he loved her.   
“Don't.” His voice shook. “Don't ask for a transfer.” His amber eyes glowed in the dim lighting of his office. He was clutching a pen, glued to his chair.   
Prentiss felt a tear streak down her cheek, but she didn't move to wipe it away. She didn't care.   
Hotch saw the tears on her face. He stood up and rounded the desk. He grabbed her in his arms, holding her tightly against his chest. Hope, real hope, grasped her. She could barely believe it. But here he was, holding her, the smell of him filling her nostrils, the essence of his presence overwhelming her senses. She grasped the front of his shirt, fisting sections of it, holding onto him for dear life. Tears shook through her. She couldn't contain the emotion overtaking her.   
“I'm so sorry, Aaron.” She cried. “I love you. I love you. I never loved him!”   
Hotch held her tightly, his nose and mouth buried in her soft hair. His amber eyes glistened softly as he listened to the most sweet noise he had ever heard. His Emily crying out for him.

BAU ^ BAU ^ BAU

Prentiss unlocked the front door of her apartment, feeling glad to be home for the first time in a long time. Hotch was behind her, quiet and reserved. He hadn't said much since their reunion in his office. But she could see his eyes, and they said it all. She felt like crying every time she thought of him begging her not to leave. She had never known a man like him in her life before, and she doubted that there was someone else like him in the world.   
Hotch's presense wrapped around her, filling her with that feeling that accompanied their every moment together. It encased her with this paralyzing emotion that she'd only felt with him.   
She walked into the apartment, her eyes landing on the empty space between the recliners and in front of the coffee table. The couch had been gone for a a few weeks now, and she hadn't had the time or incentive to go look for another one.   
Hotch's eyes found the bare hardwood where her couch used to be, and stopped for a second. His brows drew together, and she could see him visibly stiffen. He knew the reason for the couch being gone.   
“I couldn't...” Her voice caught, “I got rid of it.” She stared at the space, flashes of memories racing in front of her eyes. She shut them quickly, her lips quivering. She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to look at the vacated area once more. She had hoped to eradicate the memory that Morgan had ever been here with her, but the mental reminders were always stronger than physical.   
“Emily.” Hotch's voice was soft.   
She turned to look at him. “What?” Her voice quavered and dipped as she spoke.  
“I don't want to lose you. Ever again.” He walked closer to her, his palms sliding up over her arms.   
She looked up at him. All she saw in his eyes was love. Nothing else. No blame. No regret. No sadness. Just that all-consuming love that she had lived with every day since their relationship had started, but not really noticed the intensity of until she had lost it.   
“I don't want to lose you either.” She whispered, her trembling fingers reaching up to grip his arm.   
He pulled her closer, and his lips lowered to her, hesitantly. It was their first kiss since she had told him. And he was taking the first step. Again, she was overwhelmed by the quality of the man he was.   
His lips took her, a fire igniting between them. His lips were ravenous, his tongue sweeping over her, filling her mouth with his sweetness, his love. His hand cupped the back of her head, holding her closer, crushing her against him. She clung to him, her fingers taking in sections of his jacket and wrinkling them in her grip. She was breathing hard, tears stinging her eyes, as her feet lifted from the ground.   
He walked towards the stairs that led to the upstairs portion of her apartment. She watched the downstairs disappear behind them, burying most of her face in his shoulder. A tear streaked down her cheek and was soaked up by the material of his clothing. She had her arms and legs wrapped tightly around him and his hands were linked under her. She felt like a child being carried like this, but she knew the situation was anything but childish.   
Hotch walked quickly down the short hall and kicked her bedroom door open with his foot. He shut it again behind him, and carried her to the bed. He didn't set her down until he got there and when he did, he did with great care, gently lowering her to the mattress. Prentiss tried to hide the tears, but unlike with Morgan, Hotch saw them. He saw everything. He didn't miss a detail.   
He slid his jacket and tie off and climbed onto the bed to comfort her. He wiped her tears away, his lips catching some, his hands others. He murmured softly to her, his deep voice drying the tears as much as his fingers.   
“It's all right, Emily.” He said, softly. “I love you. Don't cry. I love you.”   
His gentleness only made her want to cry harder. She didn't deserve this kind of unconditional love. He should be pushing her away, not drying her tears and loving her. All she should deserve was a slap across the face. But in that moment, she knew that that was something he would never do, no matter what she did.   
His still-gentle hands began to pull her clothes from her body, his dark brows pulled down over his amber eyes. He removed her jacket and slid her shirt over her head. His fingertips drifted over the soft skin of her flat stomach to her belt buckle. He pulled it open and unzipped her pants. His fingers slid beneath the waistband to pull her pants and panties down simultaneously. Her shoes came off along with the pants, and he tossed her socks over the side of the bed as well. He came back up, pulling her bra straps off her shoulder. He reached beneath her and unstrapped it, and threw it away.   
He began to unbutton his own shirt. It crumpled beside him and her eyes ran over the white scars lining his chest and stomach. She felt her heart clench.   
They were together until she left. He was broken. And when she was killed, he was almost too devastated to go on. And then he found you. JJ's words cut through her mind, slicing deep. He stayed with Hailey until she was gone, and I believe that he'll stay with you too.  
He had sacrificed everything for Hailey and Jack only to have Hailey killed. He'd given his all, and in the end, he hadn't won anything. She had no right to break his heart all over again. She had no right to step outside of their relationship for a few moments of pleasure.   
Hotch's clothes were in a pile now and he was leaning over her, pulling her up against him. But the tears were filling her eyes once more, and she blinked at them, trying to bring him into focus.   
“Aaron, I'm sorry.” She whispered. It was hardly audible, her voice cracking with such contrition that it nearly broke him. She was staring up at him, her dark eyes wide and flowing tears. It was as if she had just come to the true realization of what she had done. But Hotch did not feel glad for the pain that she was suddenly experiencing. He only felt an intense need to convince her of his love for her. He couldn't care what she had done any longer. He couldn't live his life without her and he doubted that he ever would be able to. No matter how wrong and disgusting her crime, he couldn't bring himself to hate her for it. His love was stronger than that. He could no longer believe that she felt anything for Morgan either. The look in her eyes spoke everything. It said more than words could ever convey, and he didn't need to hear any more.   
“I love you, Emily.” He said, looking deep into her eyes. “I always have, and I always will. Nothing will change that. Ever. I don't want to hear about this again.” He said, brushing hair and tears away from her face. “I want to hear you say you love me.”   
She blinked rapidly, her lips still quivering. With her voice shaking and dipping, she said, just above a whisper. “I love you, Aaron. Forever.”   
He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers. Her lips parted as she stretched towards him. He dug his fingers into her thick, dark hair, pressing her lips against his. His tongue reached into her mouth, taking in her sweetness. And it seemed even sweeter than kiss downstairs. It seemed sweeter than any kiss that they had ever shared, and he didn't doubt that it would ever be sweeter.   
He slid his hand down to her breast, cupping the warm, soft mound of flesh. She felt wonderful beneath his fingers. He suddenly felt that he had just gained the whole world back when he had lost several weeks ago. Her nipple rose against his palm, convincing him further that she would never leave him again. He fingered the hardened skin, his lips leaving hers to touch it. She arched against him as he wetted the flesh, then scraped his teeth over his gently.   
The taste of her filled him. The smell of her skin wafted to his nose. The beautiful, strong essence of her made his heart pump like natural instincts never could. It filled his veins with something that blood did not and could not contain. He couldn't stop this, and he didn't want to any longer.   
Hotch slid his hand beneath her leg, pulling her even closer to him. He lifted his head from her breast to look into her eyes. His fingers slid over her center, parting her. He saw her reaction. Her lips parted, her nostrils flared as she took in a deep breath. His tip fit in her, making her inhale sharply once more. He looked deep into her eyes as he entered her, pushing deeply into her.   
He welcomed the feeling of being encased inside her. They fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, completing each other. The pleasure was paralyzing. He moved in her, slowly, taking his time. He wanted to let her know that this was what he wanted. He wanted to heal her with this slow embrace of love.   
She was staring up at him. Her beautiful eyes were dark and wide. Her long, black lashes were wet and fluttering as he sank into her and pulled back out. Her chest was rising and falling sharply and her fingers were digging into his skin where she held onto him.   
“Please, Hotch.” She moaned, her voice ragged. Her fingers dipped deeper into his arm as she begged. Her eyes closed and a tear dripped down her temple. But he didn't stop. Instead, he held her closer to him, one hand sliding up to the back of her head and cradling her against him. His hips moved softly against hers, slowly building the pleasure between them. He felt her body stiffening and shivering but he continued to hold her as her muscles seized. He felt the pleasure swirling in his stomach, spiraling downwards. He pushed into her one last time as she tightened around him. With his face buried in her shoulder, and his jaw clenched, he spilled into her. The sweet release was almost too much to grasp.   
All these weeks without her. How had he lived? How had he gone through any amount of time without feeling the expression of her love? How could he watch time pass by without hearing the beautiful sounds she made as he loved her? How could he just let her go when he remembered the feeling of her skin, the sensations upon touching her? How had he not died without seeing the small looks that she would send him when they would pass each other in the office or the sound of her laughter? And what of her wonderful smile? When would he see it again?   
As the orgasm receded, he stayed with his forehead against her shoulder, feeling the emotion tearing at the edges of his mind. He had lost Hailey to the Reaper. He couldn't let himself lose Prentiss to herself.

BAU ^ BAU ^ BAU 

There is a moment, just before a person opens his eyes in the morning when there is no memory of what has happened before. No wrong-doings. No evil. Just peacefulness.  
Prentiss experienced this as she slowly came awake. She was warm and comfortable. She was curled up on her side and someone was lying next to her. She could feel his warm flesh pressed up against her back.   
Her eyelids fluttered open, and everything from the past few months came rushing back- including last night. Most mornings she awoke feeling mentally and physically drained although she had just slept for eight hours. Today was different and she felt her heart swelling with the feeling of being alive. She had felt dead every morning and suddenly, it was as if she had awakened- for real this time.   
She didn't move. She didn't want this feeling to end. If she could be granted one wish, it would be to lie like this forever, with him next to her, feeling the overwhelming presence of their love filling the room. Her eyes closed again, and she relished this serenity, this heaven.   
She felt him move. She didn't open her eyes as he fingers brushed her cheek. They skimmed her jaw and temple, then her ear. His breath warmed her cheek as he leaned in. His lips touched her cheekbone, and he placed a pattern of kisses over the side of her face. They moved down her neck and shoulder, caressing the soft skin.   
“I know you're awake.” He whispered against her arm. She still didn't move for a moment, but then her eyelashes fluttered as she opened her eyes. She glanced back at him to his golden eyes peeking over her arm. She turned onto her back, staring up at him. His eyes gazed down upon her, lovingly, as his fingers continued to trace the planes of her body. She let out a soft sigh, too content to do much else, as his fingertips rode the curve of her ribcage and hip.  
“Do I get a kiss?” He murmured.   
“Mmm.” She replied, lifting her arm to pull him down. She found his lips, her mouth parted as they met. They shared the kiss slowly until Hotch pulled back. His eyes were light and amber, but his brows were slightly drawn.  
“What?” Emily asked quickly.  
“I forgive you.” He said, firmly.   
Emily swallowed, tears quickly arising. How she had come into posession of such a good man, she would never know.  
“I forgive you, completely, and I never want us to think about this again.” He said, reaching up a hand to rub a thumb over her lower lip lovingly.  
“Okay.” Emily whispered. She was too overwhelmed to say much else.   
“Never.” He repeated.   
“Never.” Emily echoed. She closed her eyes as he reached into kiss her again. Then she banished it from her memory.


End file.
